EPILOGUE
Autumn - 1 month
We were having two Christmases.
Of course, we had to go to Charlie and Helen's for the absolutely massive event that Christmas was for them. I had been shown pictures. Gifts flooded the living room; people were everywhere; there was a huge feast after gifts.
It was a big deal.
Luckily, it didn't start until the afternoon since everyone needed to do the Santa thing at home with the kids first.
It worked out too because Peyton and I had our little morning tradition of a huge home-cooked breakfast that we made while belting out horribly off-key carols. Then we ate while watching The Christmas Story. After that, we opened gifts while watching Christmas Vacation. Normally, the afternoon would include some heavy eggnog usage and more movie watching before we popped in a pre-made lasagne we made earlier in the month and froze, and pigging out.
We were happy to give up the latter part of the day, deciding homemade dinner by Helen was leaps and bounds better than reheated lasagne.
But we weren't giving up on our morning traditions.
"I'm coming," I whispered at Peyton who was waiting in my doorway wearing a pair of red and green striped leggings and a red long sleeved tee with a picture of Santa that begged the question Where my hoes at?
I slid out of bed away from Eli who had given me an early Christmas present - actually, three.
It was barely six. Eli wouldn't be up for at least another hour. It gave us time to get things rolling food-wise, and get the presents under the tree.
I grabbed a sweatshirt Peyton had bought me with one red and one green bulb on it, saying simply underneath Balls.
"Flick on the tree," I demanded as we passed it - our pride and joy. We had a tradition since we moved in together that we bought each other a bulb for each year. Every single one on there was dated and had some special meaning. This year, one of my gifts to Eli was his first ornament too.
I had totally teared up when I wrapped it.
Because I was becoming a big old sap lately.
"Okay, I'm on the French toa... wait," Peyton said, stopping mid-stride, then turning back to the colored tree, some of the strands blinking lazily, but most of them solid. "Santa came!" she whisper-shrieked, mouth wide, eyes dancing.
I doubled back, seeing the pile of, well, badly-wrapped presents in bright red and white paper, that only a man - or child made all of thumbs - could have wrapped.
"He must have snuck out while I was sleeping and put them out," I said, smiling at the pile, anticipation a happy, swirling thing in my belly.
"Oh!" Peyton gasped from where she had squatted down in front of them. "Half of these have my name on them! We officially share him now. He's half mine. You get the half that includes nudity. I don't like him that way. But the other half is all mine, damnit. One big poly family."
I laughed at that as she got back up and headed into the kitchen.
Some day, she was going to get a man of her own.
Until then, I was happy to share the non-nude parts of Eli with her. He already loved her as much as any of his sisters-in-law. And while she would never, ever admit it, she needed a man like him in her life. Someone safe, stable, loving, considerate. After our shitty, judgmental father and then her string of shitty partners, I was pretty sure she didn't even know what one of them was like.
He was good for her.
And he was great for me.
Oh, the heart squeeze.
I was getting really used to that.
I was no longer stepping into it; I was drowning in it.
Love.
And I never, ever wanted to surface.
"Alright, I'm hoping one of you guys got me a pair of noise-canceling headphones for next Christmas," Eli greeted us about forty minutes later, just as the potatoes, French toast, eggs, and bacon were finishing.
"Not our fault we weren't blessed with the note-carrying gene," Peyton insisted. "What we lack in skill, we make up for in enthusiasm."
"Sure about that?" he asked, giving her a hair tug as he passed her to grab the coffee. "This looks amazing."
"Can I open my presents?" Peyton asked, slamming down the last platter on the island. "Come on, you can't keep me in suspense like this!"
Eli shot me a look, eyes dancing, lips tipped up.
"One," we said in unison, making us both laugh because it was such a parent moment.
We hadn't exactly discussed that, it still being a somewhat new relationship. But judging by his family, and his determination to win the love of his nieces and nephews, he was going to want some kids of his own.
And we weren't getting any younger.
But those were thoughts for another day.
"No way!" Peyton shrieked, having, of course, chosen the book-sized package. She was holding up a copy of Die Muthafucka. "And it's signed!" she added, eyes huge. "How... I looked for months!"
"Santa must be really well connected," Eli hedged. I actually didn't even know how he pulled that one off.
After that, we all sat to eat in front of the TV, though Peyton was mostly re-reading her book since it had been discontinued in ebook, and she hadn't been able to track down a copy.
We opened the rest of our gifts after, Eli positively beaming at his ornament as he put it on the tree, having heard - and loved - our tradition when we put up the tree on December 1st.
"I'm just saying," Peyton said as we all went off to dress, "it would be much easier for me to eat today if I could just wear these pajamas!"
An hour later, we were dragging huge black bags full of gifts into the house, arriving twenty minutes earlier than the scheduled time along with all the other men to arrange all the gifts into sections to make unwrapping easier.
The full Santa experience, I realized as I stepped back into the kitchen since there was almost no floorspace in the living room once everyone was done.
"Totally, I can come be a taste-tester anytime," Peyton yelled back at Helen as she moved toward me with mashed potatoes on her spoon. At my raised brow, she shrugged. "What? I told her it needed more garlic. Geez. Holy shit," she said as she looked at the room. "And I bet there isn't one box full of fake, crawling spiders. What a waste."
Eli - 2 months
"You're overreacting," Autumn said, keeping her voice calm as I paced the living room.
"How the fuck am I overreacting about this?" I asked, turning to give her my full attention.
We hadn't had anything even resembling a fight yet, but I was seeing red over this, and she was calm as could be. Like there was anything even remotely normal about this situation.
"It's been going on for years and--"
"Years?" I cut her off, feeling my blood start to boil. "How the fuck have you put up with this for years?"
"If you would let me speak," she said in that ultra calm voice still. I wasn't sure if she was just always so calm in heated moments, or this was in response to my getting angry, worried I might lose it.
That was always a possibility, though I had started the boxing. Between that and the sex, yeah, my ass was staying practically zen-like most of the time.
This was as angry as I had been in months.
And neither of them were even worried about it.
No, they had been just... accepting it?
Fuck no.
Not on my watch.
"I'm listening," I said through a clenched jaw.
"She doesn't mind, Eli. Believe me, I've had a round or two with her about this."
"Why are you even leaving it up to her, though? Why aren't, I don't know, the cops involved?"
"Ease up there, Hottie Mc Death Row," Peyton said, coming out of the bathroom in a robe.
"Peyton, the fucking asshole was standing outside the window watching you take a bath," I objected.
I had been walking Coop, and just so happened around that side of the building. And I knew Peyton was in the tub because she had it running when I left and was murmuring something about 'sizzle you hot bitches' at, I imagined, her bath bombs.
Luckily, Coop had barked and spooked the guy before I could break out of the dazed shock I had been in momentarily.
I might have killed the guy, making Peyton's nickname for me come true.
"I know. He tends to do that. If I were paranoid about it, I would shut the curtains."
"You shouldn't fucking have to because he shouldn't be looking in them. Peeping Toms are committing crimes, Peyton. And, fine, maybe you don't mind--" Though I sure as shit did. "But what about the other women in this building who may be spied on, who might not even know they are being watched?"
"The only other apartments on our level are men and a little old lady. I doubt he's peeping there."
"Jesus Christ. There's no talking to you about this, huh?"
"It's not--" Autumn started.
"A big deal," I finished for her. "I get it."
"Where are you going?"
"To the gym," I answered, not feeling the need to tell her I was making a stop at Ryan's office first.
"What's this?" Autumn asked a couple of weeks later when it was official.
"The deed to this apartment building."
"What!"
So, she wasn't happy about it. To be perfectly honest, I expected that, and it didn't matter. Since I had no proof that Randy was a Peeping Tom - and it could take weeks to get some - and Peyton likely wouldn't testify, and the owner didn't give a shit if the super was a creep so long as the rent checks came on time, I was left with little other option.
"I get you're pissed," I said, rocking back on my heels. "But it was the only way to get Randy out of here. He's packing as we speak."
"You can't just... just buy everything to fix problems," she objected. "I mean, what, if I struggle to cover the rent at the store, are you going to buy that too?"
"Stop," Peyton said, smirking, "you're giving him ideas now."
"You can't own my apartment building."
My.
See, that was another part of the surprise that day.
"That's the thing. I was wondering if you would think about moving in with me in my old apartment."
She had been there several times with me, helping me get my new shit in there, you know, the stuff I was keeping from the duplex, which was very little. She even spent the night a few times. She loved the decor there, the building itself, the common rooms, the land around it. I actually caught her lovingly stroking the countertops while she sipped her coffee.
There was a heavy silence following that.
I knew what I was asking.
I knew that the dynamic with Autumn and Peyton and me was important to them, to me as well. I loved having Peyton around. But we couldn't all be roomies forever. Some day, she was going to find herself a man too, and then there would be a rush for everyone to figure out living situations.
"I'm not saying full-time," I qualified. "You can keep your room here, and we can spend as much time here as you want. Oh, and the rent here is dropping. That asshole was gouging all of you to fund a gambling habit."
"Okay, wait," Autumn said, shaking her head. "One thing at a time. You bought this building."
"Yes."
"How?"
"I sold the tutoring place to a friend of my father's which gave me enough. It's a smart business move - income properties. That's why Shane has one."
"Ah, okay," she said, eyes a little unfocused like she wasn't getting it. "So... this was your solution to the thing that we told you wasn't a problem?"
"Look, sweetheart, if you're moving in with me - and, yes, I know that is still an if - but if you do, Peyton will be here alone most of the time. I know he's seemed relatively harmless up until now, but do you want to take that chance? I don't."
"Aw, Autumn, he loves me. He wants to protect my quote-unquote honor."
"Something like that," I agreed. "And since we're taking Coop, you're getting a dog of your own."
"I get my own apartment and a puppy? Dude, you're moving in with him. It's not even a choice. Buh-bye. I will pack your shit while you finish your little snit."
"It's not a snit!" Autumn called after her as she disappeared into Autumn's room.
"It's totally a snit," I objected, moving to sit beside her on the couch. "You're pissed at me. You can admit it."
"You can't just go behind my back and do things, Eli," she said, exhaling hard.
"I did try to talk about it with you."
"And you didn't get your way, so you pretended to let it go, and plotted behind my back."
Alright.
Put that way, it did sound shitty.
"No more buying buildings that I live in - or work in," she was quick to clarify, "without speaking to me first."
"That's fair," I agreed, resting my arm across the back of the couch.
She barely even hesitated before she curled in.
"I like that you want to look out for Peyton when we move out."
"When?"
"Yes, when."
Eli - 1.5 years
Sometimes you did it backward.
Sometimes it wasn't the rock, the ring, the wedding, the baby.
I had given Autumn a rock six months after we started dating.
But before we could get to the ring part, there was a missed period, a trip to the drug store, and a stick that went blue.
And it didn't matter what order the world expected us to do it in, we were fucking thrilled.
I had been away for so long, had resigned myself to a future that had no softness in it. So I hadn't planned on kids.
But after spending so much time with my nieces and nephews, I realized the pull was still there.
So learning that was what we were working toward, yeah, I was a happy man.
We painted a nursery. We went to doctor visits. We bought clothes and diapers and blankets.
Then it happened.
Autumn got sick.
Not the kind of sick that meant she had to maybe take it easy, be on bedrest.
No.
It was the kind of sick that had us calling the doctor at night because she was way beyond morning sickness and suddenly couldn't stop vomiting and was too dizzy to walk on her own. It was the kind of sick that had him telling us to get to the emergency room immediately, that he would meet us there.
When a doctor tells you that he would meet you at the emergency room in twenty minutes when it was three o'clock in the morning, you knew it wasn't good.
Her blood pressure was one-ninety over one-fifteen.
A hypertensive emergency.
They had hours to get it down before she risked organ failure, seizures, stroke, or the death of her and the baby.
I'd had a somewhat crazy life. I had seen things and done things that would scare most people half to death.
But I could say with one-hundred percent certainty that nothing was anywhere near as terrifying as that night beside that hospital bed with her.
Until, of course, the night of the delivery.
C-section, because it was the only option.
They had to get him out.
For both their sakes.
Even though it was four weeks early still.
We can't wait anymore, the doctor had told us when her blood pressure refused to get and stay low, no matter the medication they tried. We are taking an unnecessary risk. We have the best neonatal unit in the state here. The baby will be fine.
So, with little choice, Autumn was wheeled down and prepped.
I was scrubbed and dressed.
I stayed up by her head, holding her hand, every inch of me more tense than I had ever been before.
"I love you," I told her as her eyes went a little glassy."
"I love you too," she said back with a smile as we heard a faint, then louder cry.
The smile on her face was something that was burned in my memory.
Especially because three minutes later, she started seizing.
And I was sure.
I was so fucking sure.
This was it.
This was the ultimate 'fuck you' from the universe to me.
I knew I had never deserved her, had never done anything to earn the right to call her mine.
So I got her for too short a time.
And she was going to be taken from me.
"What do you mean they won't let you in?" Peyton shrieked, slamming her fists into my chest until my arms went around her, squeezing too tight for her to keep pounding.
Then it happened.
Peyton broke.
Fucking shattered.
And I was right goddamn there with her.
"What's the update?" my mother asked, barreling down the hall in her four-inch boots, looking like hell on heels, ready to take on the world.
"We haven't gotten one," Peyton said, scrubbing her cheeks.
"Oh, fuck that," Ma said, turning on her heel, and stomping back to the nurse's station, looking every bit the mama bear she was.
It was barely two minutes until her doctor came out, looking tired, looking strained.
I was sure it was the talk.
The "we did everything we could" announcement I had been dreading for forty minutes.
"She's stopped seizing," he said instead and my fucking legs gave out. I slammed back against the wall on an exhale of breath I had been holding for so long it hurt. "Her blood pressure is stabling out. But this is still serious. Now that the baby is out, her body should slowly start to regulate itself. But it can take months for her blood pressure to go back to normal. Right now, we're not as worried about that as we are keeping her stable through the night. If we can manage that, she will be out of the woods."
"And the baby?" my mother asked, making me feel like the biggest shit in the world for forgetting to ask. But he had been crying. No one had been rushing to his side.
"The baby is fine. He's under the Bili lights right now because he was just a little jaundiced which is perfectly common in premature babies. It's more precaution than anything. But he's been through a lot the past few weeks; we just want to be overly careful."
"When can I see them?" I asked, trying to focus on continuing to breathe.
"You can see your son through the window up in the NICU right now. In a couple of hours, we will take him off the lights so you can hold him, but for now, we want to keep him there. You," he said, looking at me, "can see Autumn at any point."
"And me," Peyton insisted, eyes red-rimmed, makeup everywhere, a complete and utter mess, but her voice held more conviction than a general leading his men into battle.
"And you," he agreed immediately, but gave us a firm look. "But only you."
"Why don't you go see your son?" Peyton suggested. "I will go sit with Autumn until you get back, then we'll switch."
That was exactly what we did.
For the entire night.
Autumn drifted awake several hours later, having been drained from the stress, the blood loss and transfusion, the seizure, and the accompanying seizure migraine.
"The baby..."
Those words were out of her mouth before she even fully focused on me.
"He's fine," I said immediately, giving her hand a squeeze. "They have him under the blue lights just to make sure he stays fine, but all the tests have come back great so far. He's a little small, but he will be a huge, hulking Mallick in no time."
"My head hurts," she admitted. She didn't even need to say it; you could see the pain behind her eyes.
"Yeah, they said they would give you a dose of pain meds once you were conscious. I'll call..."
"I'm okay," she said, oddly.
"Sweetheart, you have a splitting..."
"No," she said, shaking her head. "You're watching me like I might drop dead. I'm okay."
"You weren't," I said, hearing the heaviness in my own voice.
"But I am now."
"See this?" I asked, showing her the front of my shirt that was smeared black.
"Yeah?"
"Peyton losing her shit."
"She cried?"
"She bawled," I corrected.
"And I missed it?" she said, looking ridiculously disappointed at the idea. "Almost dying, that's what it takes for her."
"Yeah, well, we aren't going to take that risk again just so you can see her with her mascara running."
"Ugh, fine," she grumbled, but she was smiling softly. "When can I see him?"
"Tomorrow. They said we could come up and hold him and feed him if you're up to it."
"I'll be up to it."
And she was.
We got to hold our son, feed him, and, finally, name him.
Celen.
"It's a mash-up of Charlie and Helen," she informed me as she looked up at me, her finger in our son's tiny hand, her eyes a little glassy.
"How long have you been sitting on that?"
"Since I knew it was a boy," she admitted, giving me a sweet smile.
Nothing.
Not a goddamn thing in the world to deserve her.
Or him.
Yet there they were.
Autumn - 5 years
I couldn't have any more.
With the Mallick clan, they all seemed to have litters.
I had wanted to carry on that tradition as well.
But it had taken six months to get my blood pressure down to normal without medication.
Then we had forgotten all about things like other babies because we had been so wrapped up in the one we had. One that had eyes just a shade darker than Eli's, a mix of both of ours, and hair that was just shy of black.
Eli had been right.
Once he got out of the hospital, he grew like a weed, kicking dirt in every preemie chart the doctors tried to measure him by.
At three, he was tall, wide-shouldered, and dense.
He had a strange mix of the roughness all the Mallick boys possessed, always getting into trouble, always getting hurt, and a softness that his father possessed more than his brothers did, a quietly reflective side even at his young age.
It wasn't until Celen celebrated his third birthday that we went to the doctor to talk about the possibility of another.
And it had been a very firm no.
I guess I had suspected as much.
I wasn't stupid. Once I felt well enough to listen, I had Peyton read me the online pages about pre-eclampsia. I understood that the risk factors increased with each child. And it was ill-advised even when you had mild complications.
Mine were severe.
So I think a part of me had known.
Yet I felt a really strong sense of guilt as we walked out of the office.
Then I felt shitty for feeling shitty because we had Celen.
"Thank God he said it."
"What?" I asked, confused, sure I misheard him.
"Thank God he said it."
"I don't understand," I said, turning to lean against the car.
"Look," Eli exhaled, putting his hands on my hips. "I know you got to be blissfully unconscious through it, but seeing you seizing, not getting updated for forty-minutes, that was the worst time in my life. And I'm counting the six years I spent inside. I'd take six more over watching that happen again. I'd give up six years of freedom to never have to think I was about to lose you again."
My heart squeezed in my chest at that, in the conviction with which he said it.
"But all your brothers..."
"Have exactly how many kids they are supposed to have," he cut me off. "And, sweetheart, so do we."
"But you love all the kids..."
"Yes, I do. Of course I do. But loving them doesn't mean I need to have five of my own. Autumn, I never saw myself here. I never thought I would get my family back, have the love of a good woman, have any children at all. It seemed so out of the realm of possibilities for me. I am fucking thrilled with what we have. I don't need one goddamn thing more."
It was like a weight had been lifted.
Would it have been nice to have more?
Yes.
But I loved our little family.
I loved the undivided attention we could give Celen.
And he had seventeen cousins to play with. He would never feel alone or lonely.
I didn't need one goddamn thing more either.
Eli - 10 years
"I can't fucking do it again. I swear to shit, they're trying to kill me."
That was Hunt, sitting off the side of his couch, scrubbing his hands down his face.
Mayla was seventeen.
As the rules went, she was finally allowed to date.
So she had her first one later that night.
"We agreed to these rules," Fee reminded him, watching him with a smirk, clearly enjoying his paternal dilemma.
"Yeah, when they were all in elementary school still. When I was sure this day would never come."
"They're almost all grown up," Fee went on, purposely adding salt in an obviously open wound, clearly enjoying herself.
"Don't say that. They're little girls."
"Becca is twenty-two, living in her own apartment, likely dating..."
"Don't. Babe, you're just making it worse."
"I know. I'm evil, aren't I? And Izzy..."
"Stop."
"Izzy and her guy are going on a year now."
"You're being ridiculous," Shane said, snorting.
"Um, bro," Hunt said, looking up, shooting him a look, "Sam is gonna be a teen soon. This is you in a couple years."
"Nah, man. Sam isn't dating until I'm dead. We made a deal."
"Yeah? When was that?"
"When she was eight. But it still holds."
I laughed at that, leaning back, enjoying the struggle of a father of girls. I knew because I had been a guy that dating was different for us. I understood Hunter's freak-out, his wish for more time for the girls to just be girls.
Statistically speaking, Autumn had reasoned with me when I had brought it up earlier, girls start 'dating' much later now than most times in history. Historically, Becca would have at least three kids by now, Izzy two, and Mayla would be freshly married.
When put in that perspective, I was pretty fucking glad these girls lived in the time that they did.
Even if it meant having to listen to Hunt bitch about it being too soon for an hour while Autumn was in the other room having a talk with Mayla.
Not the sex talk, of course.
Fee was progressive. The girls got small sex talks every year as new information became appropriate.
This was a different talk.
Autumn called it a "pre-date talk" that was, apparently, about pressure, consent, safety, and her right to go as fast - or slow - as she wanted. She had given similar ones to both Becca and Izzy the day before their first dates. It was also one of the most in-demand classes she had, next to couples tantra, and the talk talk.
"You told her to carry her knife too, right?" Hunt asked as they walked out. "Right in the thigh, Mayla," he told her.
"And twist," Shane chimed in.
"Punch to the groin for good measure," Mark added.
"You still have the mace I got you for your birthday too, right?" Ryan asked.
"God," Mayla said, looking around at all her uncles. "You guys are so weird."
We all shared a smile as she walked off, shaking her head at all of us.
"Did I ever thank you for giving me a son?" I asked as Autumn dropped down on my lap.
"Every time I have to have this talk with anyone," she agreed, smiling.
"Well, thank you for my son," I told her again.
"Speaking of, we should go pick him up. Knowing Bobby, he is letting them play with sparklers unsupervised."
Bobby was still around.
He eventually did get locked up again, doing a year for possession, getting out early on good behavior as he always did.
When he got out, he had practically needed to crawl over broken glass to get Nat back.
I gave him the super job at the apartment building when the old super got married and needed to move on with his life. They got married. Then they had three boys that, well, were so rough and tumble that they put Mallick boys to shame.
She really wasn't exaggerating in her worry about sparklers.
"I wish Peyton still lived there to keep an eye on things."
Autumn - 11 years
"Why would you get rid of Cock God?" Peyton asked, wrapping her arms around the massive human-sized phallus statue that had been just inside the door of the store since about two months after I first opened it. "He's done nothing but stand here and inspire everyone to pick out a nicely shaped dildo."
"I'm not getting rid of him. I'm just trying to redo the store a little. I haven't done anything different in too long."
"But why must Cock God move? He is the store mascot! The store is Phallus-opy. He's the phallus. The glorious, giant phallus."
"I just think that maybe he's a bit 'in your face' there."
"This is a sex store, Autumn. Cocks in the face are kinda part of the whole shebang. I mean, except for the girls who dig girls. But we can just get like a giant pussy to put on this side!" she exclaimed, waving a hand out to the other side of the door.
"I am not putting a giant vagina up next to the door, Peyton."
Now there was a sentence I never could have anticipated saying before. Even owning a sex store, that was a bit, ah, unusual.
"Eh, yeah. I mean even if the girls who dig girls don't like the men attached to the dicks, they like the dick shape too. Cock God stays, I vote. I mean, where else are you going to put a Santa hat at Christmas if not on his lovely, curved, shapely head?"
"I love you, but you're ridiculous," I declared with a laugh as I sorted through a box of various types of handcuffs.
"If you get rid of him, I'm taking him home with me."
I chuckled at that, looking up, finding her serious. "I don't think your man will want a giant cock in your house."
"Oh, please. If he can get used to my penis flower pillows, he can get used to Cock God."
"You're supposed to be here helping me plan, not making demands on one small statue..."
"She didn't mean it," she said, putting her hands on the head of the cock. "You are perfectly adequate. Though we all know it is partly the size of the boat, no matter how the saying goes. Alright, fine," she said, reluctantly getting serious. "Show me the swatches."
Eleven years, and she never lost an ounce of her crazy.
Love had come to her, like I had predicted, but it hadn't softened her, it hadn't rounded out her rough edges, it hadn't calmed her crazy.
In fact, it was the oddest thing.
It gave her comfort to be herself, without having to prove anything. More and more often, you could catch her without her war paint - makeup - and completely comfortable with it. She stayed in more. She just became a more laid-back version of her usual self.
It was a sight to see.
I was so happy to see her happy.
And raising her own little one.
Just like me, just one.
But more by choice than happenstance.
A little girl just a bit younger than Celen.
I hoped she would grow up to be every bit as confident, imaginative, and fearless as her mother.
Just like I hoped Celen grew up to be as kind, determined, loyal, generous, and strong as his father.
He was already on his way there.
Sometimes, when I walked in the room to say something to one of them, and I caught them sitting working on homework, or building a model ship, or just lounging together watching TV, it simply hits me.
The whole of what my life had become.
The crazy, amazing twist of fate that led me to that coffeeshop on that day to watch that man and his dog. To witness his life take a turn in the worst possible direction, leaving me to take in Coop, and feel compelled to update him on his well-being.
The pen pal friendship.
His release.
Our budding relationship.
His connection with Peyton, and mine with the Mallick and Rivers Clan.
Then, finally, Celen.
I went from such a small, though fulfilling life, to such a huge, amazing, beautiful, wonderful one so full of unique personalities, so much loyalty, so much love that it was almost painful to receive it all at once.
And in some moments, when my mind was on other things, when I wasn't prepared for it, it hit me.
With actual impact.
I would often go back a step.
My eyes would glass over.
And I would have a moment of complete and utter appreciation for this man, this amazing, wonderful, beautiful man who once upon a time didn't believe in himself, who had needed me to show him how perfect he was.
Then he spent every single day after proving to me just how worth it that all was.
"Incoming," Peyton said, turning away from the window where she was holding swatches up to the light.
There was an odd look in her eyes that I didn't quite understand until the door burst open, and in all three of them walked.
Eli.
Celen.
And some godawful, hideous mutt.
See, Coop had given us fourteen loyal years before old age took him from us, peaceful in his sleep, no illness, no pain, just a release from his duty to us.
I had sobbed for weeks.
Peyton had joined me.
Celen as well.
Even Eli got choked up over the loss of the amazing, pain in the ass creature who had, essentially, brought us all together.
Afterward, we simply never could bring ourselves even to try to replace that void.
Apparently, fate had other plans for us.
"Seriously, though," Peyton said, looking at the dog. "Where do you find these freaks of nature?"
To be fair, he was ugly.
He was all legs with a skinny center, pointed ears, and a tail that could clear tabletops. What made him so unfortunate looking was the fact that the only places he had hair was on his head, ears, the center of his back, and his tail. The rest of him was skin.
He looked like he was out of some sci-fi nightmare.
Some kind of genetically engineered dog.
I looked up to find Eli grinning at me.
"Let's see what kind of adventure he can take us on..."
XX